


A Single Poppy

by lisard



Category: Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Diary/Journal, Endermen were once human, Fluff and Humor, Hostile Mobs, Interspecies Relationship(s), Light Angst, Monster fuckers rise up, Other, POV First Person, Reader-Insert, Slow Burn, Survival, They're also just very self-conscious, semi-platonic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-14
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:20:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25151512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lisard/pseuds/lisard
Summary: [ Minecraft © Mojang ]An enderman showed up in my house one day, and he was holding a poppy. He hasn't left my house nor dropped the flower ever since. He's a sweet boy, and my monster-loving ass decided to write a fanfic. This will either be a proper story or more like a collection of one-shots. I'm attempting to give this a slight "diary" type of feel by using first-person and having periotic timeslips. There will be no smut in this story!
Relationships: Enderman/Human
Comments: 13
Kudos: 117





	1. An Offering

I could smell the rain on the wind: a strangely sweet pungency that made my nostrils tingle. The timing couldn't be more perfect, either. I lowered my head back down to the plowed dirt at my knees, sweeping my hand over the soil to bury a row of wheat seeds. I stood up and brushed off my legs, hurrying back into my house to retrieve the rain barrel. Hoisting it up, I waddled back onto the porch and placed it under the edge of my half-assed awning. I turned to the north, and I could see the overcast of dark grey in the sky. There was a flicker of light deep in the clouds, and a rumble of thunder followed soon after. I could feel the ground underneath my bare feet quiver as the shockwave reached the island. There was no telling how long the storm would last. It could be a few minutes... several hours... maybe a week. I made a mental note to readjust my routine, whatever the outcome may be.

I liked to get outside when I could. At the start of my journey, I would say indoors for days on end in a mere concave hole I dug out of the side of the hill. I was low on food, but also tools. I was terrified of the risk of going out and encountering one of those _monsters_. There were four-legged creatures that exploded once they were close enough. Instead of eyes, or teeth, or tongues, there were only dark gaping holes twisted in an expression of anguish. Their faces reminded me of death. There were reanimated corpses with sickly, rotted flesh and a taste for my own, spiders the size of cows, and skeletons proficient in the art of marksmanship. I would sometimes see them mount the spiders like jockeys out of Hell.

The most peculiar of them all, however, was the enderman. They stood almost eight feet tall; I was sure of it. They resembled partially fleshed skeletons with black skin, and their jaws could unhinge to horrifying extents. I learned the hard way that they weren't very fond of eye contact. I never meant to provoke it; it was difficult _not_ to look it in the face when I could see their eyes glowing from the other side of the island. Although, it never seemed truly interested in hurting me. Once I ran back inside and locked the door behind me, it ceased pursuit. I think they're more scared of me than I am of them.

Another clap of thunder pulled me from my thoughts. It was about time I went inside. 

The monsters liked to come out during storms, so I hooked the latch lock on my front door. None of them yet displayed the intelligence to open it in the first place, but it never hurt to take precautions. I had a hunch that the storm would last a while, so I began to make myself comfortable. There were fresh cuts of beef laid out on the counter by the smoker. Paired with the carrots and potatoes I harvested just the other day, some stew would be a quick fix.

A third roll of thunder boomed from outside, sounding much closer than before. As I reached for the knife hanging on the rack above me, a sudden noise from behind caused me to lose my grasp, the knife clattering onto the granite countertop. I knew that sound. As I turned, I kept my eyes to the floor. I scrolled across the sandstone until I locked onto a pair of tall, black legs. Little flurries of purple mist swirled around them.

I knew I was safe so long as I didn't look it in the face, but the sheer closeness alone was distressing. I couldn't recall ever being this close to an enderman without it giving me the impression of wanting to rip me apart. My heart leapt into my throat as I watched it stalk up to me, and I snapped my head back toward the counter. It cooed at me — something incoherent. Was it trying to speak to me?

It uttered another noise, but I couldn't find the courage to look back towards it. In another puff of smoke, it was gone. I released a breath I didn't realize I was holding, using the counter as support as I reached with one hand to open the cupboard. I pulled out a couple of carrots and a potato, carefully dumping them onto a makeshift cutting board. I was about to reach for the knife again when another _poof_ came from behind me. I couldn't suppress the startled whimper that fell from my lips. It murmured to me again, short and sweet. I still refused to look its way.

I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt a cold hand prod against my shoulder. I whimpered again, now feeling obligated to crane my head over my shoulder. My gaze stayed far away from its face. Once my body fully faced the creature, I froze again. For a completely different reason.

Its hands were outstretched toward me, cupping a little handful of packed soil and grass. Sprouting from the dirt, a scarlet poppy. The only flowers that grew year-round on this island were daisies. Only on occasion would I find a poppy. It certainly raised the question of where it found one. Regardless, the more pressing question was why this enderman was offering it to me. I unfocused my eyes from the flower down to its feet, watching as they shifted back and forth. Was it... anxious? I carefully lifted my gaze, following its spindly arms up to its chest. The outlines of its ribs were on display against its skin. In my peripheral, I could see it glancing back towards the windows and cowering away from them. Then it struck me, and I almost made eye contact with the creature in the midst of my realization.

It was scared of storms. That hypothesis was fully set in stone when he _flinched_ as the rain grew heavier. He just wanted shelter, and the poppy was an offering. A _gift_.

Suddenly, I wasn't so scared of this enderman. When he murmured again, I found the courage to reach out and take the poppy. I wasn't sure what to do with it at the moment, but I was sure I had a flower pot lying around. The enderman cooed in glee as I accepted the offering, and he went straight for the furthest corner of my home.

On my bed.

I could only hope to be able to communicate with him when I lay down to sleep later.

Throughout the afternoon, he stayed as far away from the windows as possible. I eventually came to the conclusion that he had a strong dislike for water. Hearing other endermen shriek and yelp during storms in the past suddenly made sense. I stood by the furnace, stew cooking on a low flame. The rain still hadn't let up, and the dying daylight only goaded more monsters to emerge and roam the island. A few zombies were already gathered at the fence I'd built around my home. They could see me through the window above the furnace; I knew that.

Two spindly legs came over the edge of the porch awning and hooked onto it, and two sets of ruby red eyes pierced my soul. I nearly collapsed to the floor as I hurried away from the window. The spider clung to the underside of the awning, hanging there and watching me through the glass. It couldn't get to me, either. After what felt like ages, it moved away from the window and climbed back onto the roof. From the other end of the house, the enderman chittered at me. I still had no clue what he was trying to say. I told him I was fine, and the answer seemed to satisfy him.

In the few hours he's spent in my home, I've come to notice there's a purr-like rumble in his chest when he breathes. I would sometimes catch it over the white noise of the rain. It was sort of cute. Much to my delight, he moved off of my bed and instead stood in the corner of the room... on top of my personal chest. At least I'd be able to get into my bed.

My stew was finished cooking, and I ate in silence. I could feel his eyes on me while I ate. Did endermen require nourishment to sustain themselves? There was a lot I didn't know about them. I got halfway through the bowl before holding it out towards him. I watched him just stare at it.

"Do you not need food?"

I didn't expect him to understand me, but then he shook his head. _Oh._

"No, as in _you don't?_ "

Another shake of the head.

"You're just not hungry?"

He nodded that time. I slowly set the bowl back in my lap. _Good to know._

It had been dark for a few hours by that point. I was then done eating. I went to rinse my bowl, then spotted the clump of soil on the countertop. The poppy. I immediately put the bowl down and hurried to the large chest against the adjacent wall. A few minutes of rummaging through it later, I found a small flower pot. The rim was cracked in a few places, but it was sure to do the job. I scooped up the flower, and with sifting motions, poured the soil into the pot. The enderman _trilled_ from his little corner, and my heart fluttered.

After setting the newly potted poppy on the windowsill, I moved back to my bed and snuffed the lantern on the wall beside it, and I laid down at last. The lantern at the door always stayed on. Most monsters hated the light. I had lanterns set up outside, of course, but leaving the one inside lit made me feel better. For the longest time, I could only lay there. His eyes were so bright in the darkness.

I didn't have to look anywhere near him to know he was staring at me. I suppose this was karma for allowing a monster to stay inside my house.

"... Could you please not watch me? It makes it harder to sleep." I tried to be as sweet as I could. I was so tired. I didn't get any sort of response for a few moments, which sort of annoyed me. Then he shuffled away and around the corner, little purple flurries wisping behind him. Some tension in my body eased, and I seemed to sink deeper into my bed. A hum rumbled in my chest, and my eyes fluttered shut.

Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to start putting time into fully separating my bedroom from the rest of the house.

It also wouldn't hurt to give this enderman a name. Maybe one would come to me in my dreams. Maybe.


	2. A Name

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!  
> I'm terribly sorry for the delay. So much has been going on in my life; I could hardly find the time to come back to this story. I'll try and be better about it in the future! There still is no real update schedule... perhaps I should make one. Haha...  
> I also apologize for this chapter not being very long! I'll strive to make longer ones in the future!

Sausage and eggs for breakfast, just like every other day. The rain died down to a drizzle overnight. He was more willing to go closer to the windows by that point. I went on and assumed that he would only leave once the rain stopped completely. He now loomed behind me, watching me over my shoulder as I cooked my breakfast. I could still hear the soft rumbling in his chest as he breathed. 

Surely it wouldn't hurt to ask again.

"Are you hungry now?"

He warbled at me, and unfortunately, I still couldn't make it out. I took the pan off of the open flame and scraped the contents onto two wooden plates. I kept mine and held out the other to him in case he wanted it.

_Him_.

He was still in need of a name. Unfortunately, nothing came to me in my sleep the other night. Perhaps I would think of something throughout the day. The enderman gingerly took the plate from me, holding it up to eye level. Whether it was to closer inspect it or smell it was uncertain. Did he suspect that I would poison him? What a thought that would be. Then he lifted the plate up, and through my peripheral, I watched him open his ungodly maw and dump the sausage and eggs inside. He chewed with his mouth open, which I could only forgive due to his lack of a tongue and lips. He smacked his teeth and returned the plate to me. His mouth cracked open again to release a little belch, which caught me by surprise. I couldn't help the giggle that followed.

After breakfast, I always went out to check on the garden. Before that, I sat down and got to work on a straw hat I'd begun weaving not too long ago. The days were getting hotter, and the sun's rays ever harsher. Even the slightest bit of protection would prove sufficient. The enderman was shuffling around my home, studying the birch plank walls and granite countertop in the kitchen. He eventually grew bored of that, and then sat across from me while I weaved my hat. His inquisitiveness was endearing; I couldn't lie about that.

I might miss him a little bit once he decides to leave.

At last, I finished my weaving. I placed my new hat atop my head and was out the door in a flash. It was late morning and the sky still had a twinge of orange. I hopped down the steps and rounded the porch to the fenced-off area protecting my crops. The seeds I'd planted just yesterday were already beginning to sprout, though they still had some time left. A few rows of carrots were almost ripe for the picking, much to my delight. The carrots from the last harvest were almost gone.

I was suddenly startled by a coo from behind me, and I nearly sprung into the air. Clutching my chest, I turned my head over my shoulder, locking onto the bare feet in the grass behind me. " _I'd appreciate it if you stopped doing that..._ " I whispered on a gasp of air.

I could see through my peripheral that he was eyeing the garden. He then took a step back, uttering a wary noise. He must've noticed the pool of water in the center of the garden. I turned back to the crops and carefully waddled further into them. The enderman watched from just outside the fence as I plucked the weeds out of the soil. This lasted for a few minutes, and he peered inside the compost bin as I tossed the weeds into it. He nearly reached a hand inside it before his attention was recaptured by me leaving the garden. He followed me around the yard all day like a lost pup. I couldn't complain. Again, the company was nice.

He only ever kept a large distance between us when my tasks involved water. When I watered my crops, checked the rain barrels, and so on.

Unsurprisingly, he wasn't a fan of the ocean. He stayed behind the fence surrounding my house as I sat on the dock to fish. He seemed to also express some concern for _my_ closeness to the water. I could only assume that he believed water would hurt me as well. "I'll be fine," I called to him from over my shoulder. He never left the edge of the fence for as long as I stayed on the dock. I could feel his eyes on me the entire time.

A ways away, deep in the ocean, I could see a few Drowned. One of them seemed to be clutching something in their hand. Perhaps a shell or piece of armor. None of them paid any mind to me, which I was thankful for.

During my efforts at the dock, while waiting for a snag at my line, I took more time to think over possible names for my current roommate.

His concern always spiked whenever I reached into the water or got splashed by a defiant salmon. Even still, I reminded him I was alright. The fish weren't particularly active that day; I only ever caught three throughout the duration of the afternoon. I cooked them for supper that night, seasoned with pepper and a few herbs. I prepared two, keeping my roommate's interest in mind. I did some more pondering as well.

Long ago, from a time I couldn't quite remember, I could faintly recall reading stories by a man named Edgar-something. They were typically dark in nature, and I'd sometimes lose sleep over them. Nevertheless, the man's writing was impeccable. _Dark and mysterious,_ I noted.

"Edgar," I said aloud, hoping to capture the creature's attention. There was a moment of silence before he made an inquisitive coo. "Edgar?" I turned my head ever so slightly to just catch him in my peripheral. His upper body tilted to the side in a curious manner, as if unsure if I was truly talking to him.

"Do you like that name?" I asked him, "I want to give you a name."

He understood then, straightening up and cooing again. He deemed it a wonderful name. I had to smile. "Edgar it is, then."

The salmon were finished cooking at last. I killed the flame on the stove and moved the filets of meat onto their respective plates. I raised Edgar's plate to him, which he gladly took. We sat on the edge of the elevated platform in the corner of my house, where I'd placed my bed and personal chest. My plate laid in my lap as I picked at my salmon steak. Edgar had already dumped his meal into his mouth and gulped it. 

Endermen were tall and spindly, nearly resembling skeletons. I had to wonder if Edgar would gain some weight if I were to keep feeding him. The thought was quickly dispelled from my head.

_He's a mob, not a pet,_ I reminded myself. 

I took our plates over to the counter to clean, and I caught sight of the emerging monsters outside. There seemed to be more compared to other nights in the past. I was a bit unsettled at most. The fence had been doing a swell job at keeping them away so far. I had faith they would continue to do so. I tried not to think too much about it while I washed the dishes.

Edgar loomed behind me whilst I worked, attention shifting between me and the mobs outside. I didn't particularly care for his prying eyes on me at all times, but I tried to think of it in a better light. As if he were protecting me, as ludicrous as that sounded. He leaned closer to the window — almost completely over the top of my shoulder — to watch more closely as a small herd of zombies gathered around part of the fence. They had no intelligence to use the latches on the gate, so all they could do was aimlessly attempt to walk through the gate itself. The oak held its own every time. 

The night was still young. I took a moment to lightly water the poppy on the windowsill. Edgar watched while I did so, not seeming to understand why something would need water if it wasn't alive. While he never made any quizzical noises, I explained anyway, "plants use water to keep healthy, too. Just like me." Edgar only tilted his head at me, still failing to understand the reasoning. "It's just how it is," I added. The topic was left alone after that.

I only managed to kill almost half an hour before finding myself bored again. I sat on the floor by the bookshelf, skimming through an old journal I'd read a hundred times already. The pages smelt faintly of basalt. Fitting, as the journal told tales of an adventure through the Nether. There was an ancient portal almost a mile on a much smaller island, where I'd found a chest full of gold nuggets, a piece of armor, and said journal. I'd entertained the idea of fixing up the portal to visit the realm myself, though I could never get around to farming for obsidian. Nor was my desire really that strong.

Edgar watched me, like he always did, from the other end of the house. It was strange how he could be willing to encroach on my personal space some moments, then have more than enough regard for them at other times. A curious thing, indeed.

"Do you know of the Nether?" I asked, growing tired of the loud silence. He lifted his head a bit at that, gurgling something to account for an answer to my question. "It sounds scary," I remarked. "I can't imagine anyone wanting to stick around there long enough to write such a long journal about it."

I closed the journal, getting wafted with the smell of basalt before returning it to the bookshelf. I approached my bed, reaching out and snuffing the lantern beside it. Edgar drew closer to the beside as I wrapped myself up in the blanket. I left a few moments tick by before reminding him that I didn't like being watched while I slept.

He understood, moving away from my bedside and back into the kitchen, shifting his attention outside once again.

"Thank you," I spoke out, turning and facing the sandstone wall. "Goodnight, Edgar."

I expected a response of some kind, seeing as I spoke his name.

Although, I didn't expect it to be a semi-decently annunciated " _goodnight_ " right back at me.


End file.
